


Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, Ma

by dottieapple



Series: Li'l Stucky Adventures [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awesome Sarah Rogers, Gen, Kid Bucky Barnes, Kid Steve Rogers, Lil Stucky, Sarah Rogers is Best Mom, Troublemaking Boys, kid!Stucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:44:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottieapple/pseuds/dottieapple
Summary: 8-year-old Steve Rogers has just made a new friend, and now Sarah Rogers wants to meet this little boy her son is so excited to know. On the menu: pot roast and little James Buchanan Barnes putting his foot in his mouth.Another part of the Li'l Stucky series, chronicling two boys growing up together in Brooklyn.





	1. Sarah's Sunshine Boy's Confession

**September 1926**

The front door opened with a creak, and her sunshine boy came running into the small apartment. He was excited about something--he didn’t normally run most places. He was so enthusiastic about everything in the world sometimes, but his lungs wouldn’t allow him to carry on for long. Not like the other little boys his age. 

“Mama!” Steve squeaked excitedly, with one hand behind his back. “Mama, guess what?”

Sarah pulled her child into an embrace, his blonde head nestling just above her hip. “Hi sweetie, how was school today?” He pulled away, a big grin on his face.

“Oh, um, okay,” Steve responded, keeping one of his little arms behind his back. He started to bounce on his toes. “But Mama, guess what?”

Sarah returned to stirring the pot she had on the small apartment stove. She sniffed and decided the mixture was missing something. “What is it, Stevie?” She smiled gently at her son’s beaming excitement and reached into the cupboard for some salt and pepper to flavor the soup. 

“I made a friend!” Steve exclaimed triumphantly. “I made a friend at recess today!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Sarah sang out. “Does this friend have a name? How did you two meet?”

“Well, um,” Steve hesitated. Sarah noticed her boy’s one arm was still held nervously behind him, even as he rocked back and forth from foot to foot. Steve took a deep breath, as if to cleanse his thoughts. “His name is James Buchanan Barnes and he’s new at school and we walked to the corner together before he had to turn onto his street to go home.”

Sarah stirred the soup she was making again, turning the heat down on the stovetop. She set her wooden spoon aside and wiped her steam-dampened hands onto her apron. She sat down on one of the small chairs at the tiny kitchen table so she would be closer to eye-level with Steve. She had so much love for her sweet boy, sometimes she found it difficult to express concern to him when he wasn’t sick. She gave him a soft but stern look. “Stevie, honey, what are you hiding behind your back?”

“Hmm?”   
  
“I’m your mama, and you can’t hide from me,” Sarah responded. “I know you’ve got something in that hand you haven’t been showing me since you walked in.” 

Steve’s little face turned pink. “Oh. This is...I had to bring this home for you.” He looked at the floor and pushed a small envelope into Sarah’s open hand. She recognized Steve’s teacher’s careful cursive anywhere,  _ Mrs. Rogers _ written a bit jaggedly.

Sarah sighed. This was neither the first nor the last of these kinds of notices she had received. She didn’t even move to open it. Instead she ruffled her fingers through Steve’s hair and pulled him close, placing the envelope on the table. She cupped her hand to his cheek, and Steve’s baby blue eyes were rimmed with tears. “Oh, sweet baby,” she soothed him, “I know. I know it’s hard for you sometimes. Were you daydreaming again?”

Steve nodded and sniffled. “I’m sorry, Mama. I got in trouble, had to stand by the fence for all of recess.”

A flash of a smile crossed Sarah’s face as she stood to stir dinner again. Steve climbed into the chair she just abandoned, chasing her warmth. She dipped a wooden spoon into the pot and turned slightly to look at him. “Recess, huh? Tell me more about your new friend?”

“Yeah! He’s really--” Steve screwed his face up. “Oh.” He was nervous about something, and Sarah wasn’t entirely sure what, though she had a feeling.

“It’s fine, Stevie. You can tell me.” Sarah sniffed the cabbage soup and turned the stove off. She reached on a shelf for a couple of bowls.

“He got in trouble at recess and had to stand next to me. He hit that redhead kid who called me names that one time. The kid cheated at stickball and called James a--he called him something I don’t wanna say. It was really mean.”

Sarah dished up dinner for the both of them. “Sounds like your new friend James has a strong sense of justice. Although maybe he shouldn’t be hitting other boys on the schoolyard.” She thought of the times Steve would come home with a bruise or a skinned knee because someone had pushed him down, just for looking less-than, or running too slow, or the one time because he didn’t have a father.

“It was a really, really bad word to call a person, Mama. You would’ve been mad too.”

She didn’t press further. It was obviously upsetting to Steve, whatever this other boy had said to this  _ James _ he’d taken a shine to. “I’m just glad you’re okay, and I’m happy you found a new friend to talk to. Maybe he can come over for dinner sometime. Would you like that?”

Steve, in the midst of a mouthful of soup, nodded exuberantly. 

“Well you keep up the good work making friends, and if you find out his number, I could ring up James’ mother--Barnes, did you say?” Steve nodded even more vigorously, a grin spreading across his thin face. “Then, if it’s all right with Mrs. Barnes, you can have yourself a dinner guest sometime soon.”

Steve kicked his feet happily in his chair, a habit he’d never lost from the time he was a toddler. “Thanks, Mama.”

“You’re welcome. I love you, my sunshine boy.” Sarah got up from her seat at the table and kissed her son on the top of his head. “And try to pay a little better attention in class? These letters get more dramatic the more I get.” She tossed the envelope from the school into the waste can, unopened.


	2. Pot Roasts and Putting a Foot in Your Mouth; or, When Sarah Met Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet lil Brooklyn boys Steven Grant Rogers, age 8, and James Buchanan Barnes, age 9, met on the schoolyard a couple of weeks ago, and their mothers have heard nothing but "Steve this" and "Bucky that" ever since. Here's what happens when Sarah Rogers meets her Stevie's new best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I don't own Marvel comics or entertainment, don't own any of these characters; I just own my headcanon. And if you're reading this, maybe you now co-own my headcanon?)
> 
> This chapter contains tinkertoys, because a bit of research found they were the affordable option for building toys in the late 1920s, and I just wanted them to be playing with something other than toy soldiers, because I see that all the time.
> 
> Also, prepare for the first appearance of tiny softboy Bucky. I swooned, and I wrote the kid. Geez.

His small voice called out, as though Sarah could have missed the sound of their very creaky front door opening, “Mama? We’re here!” Steve’s light footfalls were accompanied by a second set that had a more stomped-out cadence. Sarah checked the oven, finished slicing a carrot, and wiped her hands on the front of her nurses’ apron. She still needed to change into her house clothes. She’d started preparing the pot roast as soon as she got home from the hospital that day. 

Sarah had used the shared hallway telephone to contact Winifred Barnes several days ago, and together they had planned for their sons to have dinner at Sarah & Steve’s apartment after school, with Winnie returning the favor the following week, when Sarah would have to work a late shift. Winnie sounded like an affable woman, a little over-concerned about her son’s behavior but also quite busy taking care of James’ younger siblings. Steve had been telling Sarah countless stories about his new friend since the day they’d met on the playground. “It gave me pause, and I had to wonder what got into him,” Sarah explained.

“Oh, don’t I know it,” Winnie had chuckled. “Steve this, and Steve that, and ‘Ma, did I tell ya Steve likes the Dodgers just as much as me?’ but I had to stop James and ask who this Steve was because all of a sudden his name came up multiple times a day!”

  
  
***   
  
_ “And then,” Bucky said, rocking back on his chair, “Steve and I made paper airplanes and threw them all over the schoolyard! Well, until Mrs. O’Halloran took them away. Steve was sad, he spent like fifteen minutes trying to decorate his with stripes and stuff. And on the way home, Steve was hungry so we stopped at the park and we shared that apple you packed for me.”  _

_ “James, honey, put all the legs on the floor,” Winnie sighed. That boy may be covered in scrapes and dirt, but he was not going to be accidentally breaking the furniture or toppling onto his little sister. “Where did this Steve come from? How come you haven’t mentioned him before?” _

_ “We just met, Ma. He’s in the grade below me but that doesn’t matter because he’s real good at drawing, and he’s gonna teach me, and I’m gonna help him with subtraction.” Bucky squirmed in his seat and almost rocked back again but caught himself. “And, uh, well,” he rubbed the back of his neck, flinching, “we stood on the line at recess and he was real nice. He shouldn’t have been in trouble anyway.” _

_ Winnie smiled gently, placing her hands on her wide hips. She’d never heard her eldest child so happy to have a friend. Bucky barely talked about school at all, and when he did it was usually apologizing for whatever deed was noted in a letter he brought home at the end of the day. “Honey, you didn’t make him up, did you? Steve isn’t an imaginary friend?” _

_ Bucky scoffed and puffed up his little chest. “Ma, I’m nine years old now. I’m way too old for that.”  _

__   
  
***

  
  
The two sets of small footsteps finally stopped at the edge of the kitchen threshold. Sarah bit back a grin because the picture of these two boys together couldn’t have been more adorable in that moment. Combined, Steve and Bucky were the very picture of frenetic childhood innocence, beaming at each other. One of Steve’s pant legs was still rolled while the other had come loose, covering one foot entirely, and while his shirt was disheveled, his suspenders had been adjusted perfectly into place--probably with his new pal’s help.   
  
Little James Barnes had a big easy grin, minus at least one tooth. He looked like he made an effort to dress nice as though this was a special occasion. He wore what were possibly his church-going shoes and a pressed shirt, but his short pants revealed red-scraped knees and drooping black socks. He had dark, wavy hair that fluffed out all over the place, and very clear blue-gray eyes that were reminiscent of Steve’s in their sparkle.   
  
“Hi Ma!” Steve exclaimed, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He was almost bouncing. Sarah gave him a quick squeeze and a kiss on top of his blonde head. 

“Hello, sweetie.” Sarah looked to her son’s new friend, her face lighting up. “And this must be the illustrious--”

“James Buchanan Barnes, Mrs. Rogers. But you can call me Bucky!” The dark-haired boy was bubbling over, like he might start jumping up and down at any moment. “It’s very nice to meet you." He went quiet for a moment, as though running through a list in his head. Steve reached out and gave Bucky a gentle poke on the arm. "Wha--? Oh! Thank you for having me over.” 

“Well, Stevie positively insisted that you should come,” Sarah said, aware that she was fussing over the two boys together. The way Steve spoke about his friend, it seemed obvious that they were becoming joined at the hip. Sarah wanted both boys to feel appreciated and happy.

Bucky thrust a thin arm into his pocket and produced a somewhat-squished handful of pansies. “For you, Mrs. Rogers.” He smiled, clearly proud of his very grown-up gesture.

“I told Bucky that I heard it’s polite to bring a gift for the dinner hostess!” Steve didn’t often look proud, but his slight posture managed to show it for his sophisticated new pal.

“Oh, how lovely,” Sarah tittered, disguising her amused gut reaction. She thought it all very sweet of the boys, even though she was entirely certain the flowers had been plucked from the Rorrick’s windowboxes downstairs, based on the dirt she noticed under Bucky’s fingernails. “You know what? Why don’t you two go play while I work on dinner?”

Steve jumped at the chance. “Bucky, come see my city!” He turned quickly to head toward the corner behind the rocking chair, and nearly lost his balance. Sarah instinctively turned to catch him, but Bucky was already in her son’s personal space and managed to bounce him into the right position. Steve’s city was the most recent thing he’d built with his small set of tinkertoys. It was usually buildings, cars, sometimes a plane or a train.

Sarah listened to the pair carry on as she put the pot roast into the oven. She moved quickly into the bedroom to change out of her uniform and into a more suitable dress. The boys giggled and talked, interspersed with various sound effects.

“Then we can build a race car!” Steve exclaimed. “Or, I guess, two because you can’t just have one car in a race.”

“Mine’s gonna do a hundred miles per hour,” Bucky declared. “They got cars that can do that, you know.”

“Yeah, and when you’re playin’ for the Dodgers, you can probably get one. We’ll go for a ride!“ The boys continued their game, but Sarah’s ears pricked up when she heard a harsh cough from Steve after he laughed. She hastily moved from her relaxed position on her bed back to the living area. He seemed fine, but she made a mental note to keep listening. The rattle in her sunshine boy’s chest was frequently a warning of something worse coming on.

There weren’t additional signs of Steve getting sick, but with fall on the way, the inevitable chill in the air usually brought some ailment or another. Maybe this year would be kinder to her boy, at least as far as fevers were concerned. Sarah chose not to focus on this anymore--she was hungry, and surely the boys were too. She put a kettle on to boil to make herself a cup of tea. “Stevie, would you and Bucky set the table for me?”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Rogers!” Bucky perked up, jumping to his feet. Steve took his careful time getting up from the floor, as usual. Sarah pulled the plates out of the high cabinet, and Steve gathered silverware which had been drying on the small counter attached to the sink. Bucky held out both hands. “Oh, only three plates? Is your Pop working late? Because sometimes my Pop has to put in all kindsa hours at the warehouse and--” he babbled on, not noticing a shift in his audience.

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat, just slightly. She looked at Steve who had frozen in place. She knew that look anywhere--Steve had forgotten to mention something very important and was wrestling with how to get it out. He somehow became paler as his cheeks flushed bright pink; his little eyebrows furrowed. He sputtered an “Um” and a couple of incomprehensible, shy syllables. 

Sarah swept in to save her boy. “Oh, James,” she decided using his real name, gently, would help him realize the gravity of the situation. It was the same tone of voice she used with frightened children at the hospital. “Dear heart, that’s awfully kind of you to ask, but I guess Stevie didn’t mention that my husband--his Pa--is no longer with us.”   
  
Steve sniffled and looked down at his hands where they rested on the tabletop, his entire face awash in either sadness or embarassment. Sarah wasn’t sure which yet. “It, um,” he said in a near whisper, “sorry, Bucky.”   
  
And despite all his wildness, his energy that had flooded the room enough for both boys, James Buchanan Barnes walked around the table to his best pal’s side and put his lanky arm around Steve’s narrow, slumping shoulders. “It’s okay, Stevie," he hushed, using the nickname he'd heard Sarah using, saying it with an almost delicate care. "Don’t cry. It’s okay.” Then he smiled softly. “I didn’t know, pal. You never told me about your Pa.”    
  
Sarah Rogers could not believe her eyes, looking at these two small friends and noticing the immediate brotherhood they shared. “Mr. Rogers died in the war, around the same time Steve was born,” she explained, knowing they didn’t require more detail at this age. Having to grieve and care for a newborn at the same time would remain Sarah's private pain for years.

Steve inhaled a gasp of air and shook his head. He softly pushed at Bucky so he’d take a step back. “I wasn’t gonna cry, Bucky. ‘M fine,” he pouted to his counterpart.

Sarah suggested they take the pitcher down to the water pump so they could have a drink with their pot roast.

Bucky, of course, sprang into action and whipped the empty pitcher off the table top where Sarah had left it. “C’mon, Stevie! I’ll race ya down the hall!” But the two boys didn’t take off running immediately. It was more of a shuffle to the door first.

Sarah stifled a giggle as she heard Steve say somewhat loudly, “Y’know, Bucky, I might’ve told you about Pa if you weren’t talkin’ so much all the time.” The two sets of small feet thumped off down the hall. Sarah made a note to herself to call Winnie Barnes and let her know that James was welcome in their home any time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading--likes and comments are my bread & butter (until someone wants to commission me). Lil Stucky will return!
> 
> xo,  
> Dot

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 brings li'l Bucky in all his 9-year-old hyperactive glory. It's going to be adorable and very entertaining. See you next time!
> 
> xo,  
> Dot


End file.
